


Give and Take

by Starbrow



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Frottage, Incest, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 03:43:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starbrow/pseuds/Starbrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the eve of his coronation, Caspian discovers just how much Peter and Susan enjoy sharing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give and Take

**Author's Note:**

> More threesome Narnia fun! This time as a fill for the NFFR-Party LJ community's ongoing smut challenge! This fic is in response to a prompt from Snacky, who wanted a very besotted Caspian and a ready-to-share Peter and Susan. And this is pretty much movieverse all the way, and total epic smutfest.

"Your Majesty." Caspian looked up from his cup, finally used to the title after hearing it too many times to count this morning, and afternoon, and evening. He couldn't wait to dispense with the unending formalities of the coronation and finally enjoy the peace of his chambers, which at the moment seemed very far away. The parade of nobles wishing to hold conversation with him (no doubt trying to establish their place in the new court) was unending. The business of being King, contrary to popular belief, was often a tedious one.

In fact, Caspian was starting to think the Kings and Queens of old had it easy. For starters, there were four of them, which meant that the tediousness was spread around more or less evenly. For another, they had had years and years of experience at this sort of thing. And for a third, they were _already_ Kings and Queens, and thus could pretty much do as they pleased.

Lucy was the first of them to get up from the long table, pulled inexorably by the lilting strains of the music that was beginning to waft from the adjacent hall, signaling the call to begin the first set of dances. She joined the first wave of Telmarines and Narnians to rise from the table and migrate to the dancing hall. Edmund was deep in heated discussion with Doctor Cornelius, and Caspian grinned as they rose and headed to the East Wing, no doubt in search of the castle library to prove the veracity of one point or another.

And that left Peter and Susan, who sat several paces to the left of Caspian, where he could glance covertly at them while appearing deep in conversation with each Telmarine noble that approached his side there. He could not keep himself from watching them. They looked – well, _happy._ Peter's finely drawn features were relaxed and suffused with joy, a marked change from the turmoil of the war. He _laughed_ with Susan, who smiled a slow beautiful wicked smile as only she could. Her eyes were very clear in the lamplight, gazing at Peter…

 _"Your Majesty."_ Caspian shook himself, trying to concentrate on the lord he was conversing with. Most everyone had finished dessert and the assembly was making its way to the adjoining hall. The young King and Queen, however, were still seated, lingering over the fruit and cream before them. With ever increasing glances, Caspian watched as Susan chose a slice of peach and dipped it in the frothy cream, then raised it to her lips with an arch look at Peter beside her. Her full red lips closed around the peach slowly. Peter seemed transfixed by them as well.

"…Er, yes, they can start the evening's entertainment," said Caspian dazedly in answer to the lord's question. "I shall come shortly. I find myself rather thirsty." He seized the flagon of wine – it was very good wine; it must have been one of Miraz's private vintages – and drank deeply. The lord bowed and left.

Susan was smiling even more wickedly now, for she had raised a delicate finger covered in white cream as if to lick it, and then suddenly smeared it on Peter's cheek. Peter glowered at her, his eyes glinting with mischief and – something else. Something that looked very much like what Caspian was feeling, all the blood in his body rushing south at the vision of Peter's face smudged with the creamy substance. Caspian longed to come over and lick it off his skin…or add to it.

Susan though got there first. She leaned close to Peter and turned her head as if to kiss his cheek, but Caspian could see her tongue darting to taste the spot of cream there, licking it up with one quick swipe. Caspian clenched his fist under the table, glad for its cover, that his embarrassing arousal at their exchange would not be noticed.

Peter's expression changed rapidly, and his jaw tightened. He stood up suddenly, the bright lamplight of the hall catching the golden flecks of his hair. "Good night, Susan," he said loudly, in a voice that carried to where Caspian sat, burning silently.

With rapid strides, Peter reached the center of the table, nodding at Caspian as he passed. His blue eyes were dark and burning with intent. "Glad you're King, Caspian. Till tomorrow."

Caspian could not help letting his gaze flicker over Peter's lean frame, the slim cut of his doublet and trousers hinting at the hard muscle that was contained underneath. "Good night," he called to the backside of Peter – and a very nice backside it was indeed.

Susan glanced at Caspian with an amused look. They were the only two left at the main table now. "He always does that, you know. Just up and leaves whenever he wants to. It comes with the High King bit, I suppose."

Caspian searched for something to say, something that was not either utterly idiotic or entirely inappropriate. _He would gladly come with the High King, or her, or both…_ He found he could not muster any coherent words, as frequently happened when he was face-to-face with her astounding beauty.

Susan did not seem to object, however. She did not turn away from his stare, but met it openly with steady blue eyes that searched his face for a long moment. Then she smiled a little. "You are planning to make a fashionably late entrance to the dancing, then. You are the last one left behind."

Caspian realized he could not stay there all night; he must join the court. He exhaled slowly, regaining control, and stood; Susan followed his example – at least, the standing part, for she seemed perfectly in control of her composure. Caspian bowed and held out his arm to her. "My lady?"

Susan shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm a bit tired this evening. I hope you won't be put out if I retire early."

Caspian looked beseechingly at her. "And miss the dancing?"

Susan laughed. The sound made his chest ache with longing. "You won't lack for partners. And if you do, Lucy will never pass up the opportunity to dance. She will make sure you dance every set."

"I had hoped to dance with you as well," said Caspian softly.

Susan looked at him again in the same scrutinizing way. She cast her gaze down, back up at him, and he followed the sweep of her long dark lashes. She had to know the effect she had on him! "And perhaps you shall, before the night is out," she said; yes, her tone was most certainly flirtatious, he decided.

As she took her leave, Susan laid a soft hand on his arm. "Good night, Caspian." He bowed again, feeling the folds of her skirts brush his legs, so near did she pass next to him.

He bid her good night and gazed with yearning at her retreating figure, luscious curves awakening his senses just as keenly as Peter's masculine angles had. Caspian tried to clear his head; this was madness, utter madness. He should not want both of them; and clearly, they were each other's desire, even if Susan kept saying the most flirtatious things to him and Peter kept giving him heated stares that seemed to burn straight through him. Caspian sighed.

Lively drums and kithara syncopations were drifting from the dancing hall. Caspian took a deep breath and turned once more toward his duty as the new King of Telmarine Narnia.

***

He gasped for breath, having just whirled without pause for what _must_ have been a solid fifteen minutes, although Lucy insisted it was only a three-minute _bolero_. But then, she hadn't had a flagon (or five) of wine supplied to her in a constant stream throughout the evening as Caspian had. Perhaps the whirling hadn't been such a good idea after all…

"Come on, the next one's starting," cried Lucy, grabbing his hands and attempting to pull him back into the circle of dancers.

Caspian staggered and pulled her back out. "Five minutes," he panted. "I should have – listened to Susan – you _don't stop_ do you?"

Lucy grinned. "Never! Oh please Caspian! Look, the Fauns are going to play their flutes for this one! Those are the _best_ dances."

The room was spinning – there was absolutely no chance Caspian would make it through another round. "Go," he said, releasing her hands as he sank back into the nearest chair on the side. "I'll be sitting this one out."

"If you're not going to dance, at _least_ go play kithara with the band for a song or two."

"Even worse," groaned Caspian. "At the moment, I couldn't play a single arpeggiated chord to save my life."

"I don't believe you! And you _promised_ to play – yes Voluns I'm coming!" And Lucy bounded off (with a parting smirk in Caspian's direction) into the dizzying mass of brightly dressed humans and Fauns and Nymphs and other Old Narnians who were all dancing together. Lucy's enthusiasm was contagious, and Caspian smiled at the sight of the energetic Queen clasping hands with the Faun Voluns and the Lord Redizar and joining the whirling circle.

He leaned back with closed eyes as the room grew hazy again. The tambors' infectious rhythms seemed to match his pulse, a hot fast tempo that urged him to move, but the potent effect of the wine made him breathe deeply and simply feel the throbbing beat of the music around him.

"Your Majesty." Caspian gave a silent sigh. Even now, they were posturing. He opened his eyes and beheld, to his relief, one of the pages who was on duty for this evening.

The page bowed and handed him a sealed note. "From Queen Susan," he explained.

Caspian nodded his thanks, dismissing the boy, and took the note curiously. His fingers slid under the plain wax seal and unfolded the slip of paper.

He had to read it three times to make sure he wasn't imagining its message.

_Would you care for a dance in my chambers?_

Caspian rose to his feet rapidly – perhaps not such a good idea either – and did not hesitate in making his way along the edge of the room toward the door. Surely he had fulfilled his social obligations for the evening. The King could do as he pleased; that was one of the few good things about being King. And it pleased Caspian _very_ much to accept Susan's invitation to – well, he hoped there would be a number of things she would invite him to do tonight.

Lucy brushed past him. "I won't forget!" she said with a grin, before she whirled away into the flurry of the dance.

***

Caspian tried to settle his rolling senses as he stepped carefully through the room. Perhaps he _might_ have been able to muster a handful of chords (under different circumstances!), but he could still feel himself reeling from the effects of the rich wine and knew he needed all his wits about him if he planned to not make an idiot of himself in front of Susan. He returned the polite nods of the guests he passed, but all the while his mind was attempting to collect itself into some kind of rational state as his body roared _Susan! Her chambers! Well done!_

At last he had emerged into the cool solitude outside the dancing hall. Glad for the relative scarcity of people in this part of the castle, Caspian hurried along the corridors until he came to the flight of stairs that led to the sleeping quarters. His fingers clutched the note as he quickly ascended the sets of steps, the words of her message turning over in his head. What _else_ could she mean? Surely she was asking him for the same purpose that Caspian was assuming. In any case, he was going to be alone with Susan at last. Plenty of opportunity for further developments, he thought hopefully.

Caspian followed the stone hallways automatically, and as he drew closer to the guest chambers, he found himself becoming more and more nervous. His mind began returning to the images of Peter leaning close to Susan, smiling; the intensity of Peter's eyes as they met his over the last few days, their flashes of anger and passion stirring Caspian with hopeless desire; the powerful way Peter always commanded the room with his presence, till Caspian could not take his eyes off him.

There was no denying that he would have answered a similar invitation from Peter in a heartbeat. Caspian thought wistfully that there was not much chance of that happening. Susan was enough…he should thank the great Stars above that she was honoring him thus. Caspian clenched his hand around the edge of her note and tried not to think of Peter's undeniable appeal, or of what Peter would say if he knew Caspian was on his way to meet with Susan thus.

Miraculously, he did not pass anyone in these hallways, but as he turned the corner to the guest suites, Caspian saw a black sinewy shape unfold itself from the shadows. His momentary alarm was settled as he recognized it as one of the Jaguars who had fought in the battle; Caspian could recall the Beast stalking by the side of Peter and Susan during several occasions that day.

The Jaguar's yellow eyes blinked at him, and Caspian heard a low rumble that could have meant any number of things in feline language. He gave a brief nod in greeting to the crouching Beast, who rose and prowled close to Caspian. The rumbles turned into words. "You are awaited," said the Jaguar in a low chirr. "I wish you a pleasant evening, Sire."

Caspian flushed hotly at the Jaguar's suggestive tone and its insinuations. "And to you," he replied, trying to mitigate the implication of just what a pleasant evening with Susan would entail. He hesitated, not wanting to appear _too_ eager.

The Beast chirred again. "What are you waiting for? This is your night."

Caspian was a little taken aback by the open acknowledgement of the situation but supposed there was no use denying it. He nodded again to the Jaguar. "Well put. Good night then."

Susan's door was a few footsteps away. Behind him Caspian heard a low purr and felt instinctively (and with a little relief) that the Jaguar would be keeping watch on that hallway throughout the night. There was nothing for it. He knocked softly on the door and waited with his heart in his throat. No reply.

"Enter," growled the Jaguar in the darkness of the corridor. "She's been expecting you."

Right. Caspian took a deep breath, put his hand flat against the grain of the door, and pushed it open.

There was a fire flickering in the antechamber, but it appeared empty. Caspian shut the door behind him and wondered for a moment what to do. Should he call out? Walk further in? Wait for her to find him? He left the door unbolted (the Jaguar would surely dissuade any visitors) and stood uncertainly as he listened for any signs of movement, his eyes glancing at the dim light that streamed from the open doorway that led to the bedroom. Then he heard a faint voice from that direction – Susan's. "Wait here."

Caspian stared hard, trying to determine what she meant. His breath caught as he heard another voice answer her. Peter's husky, golden voice. "I can't exactly go anywhere, can I?"

Caspian froze in alarm. He had misinterpreted – he should not have come in so boldly – he should leave at once. He wished he could _think_ clearly, but he was paralyzed by the confusion of his error and the cloudiness of his not-entirely-sober thoughts. Gods. He was done for.

Susan appeared in the doorway, a vision of breathtaking beauty with unbound hair and flowing gown. Caspian didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed at her state of clothedness. He was more concerned that she would be terribly angry at him for his misunderstanding and intrusion.

But she glided to him silently and took his hand before he could say a word. Although fully dressed, the dress clung very appealingly to her hips and waist, and dipped low across her breasts in a glorious fashion. She did not look the least bit upset or surprised; on the contrary, her eyes glowed with – anticipation? Caspian was captured by her inviting glance, the flush of her cheeks, the warmth of her hand in his, the slow smile that spread across her face. She leaned close to him, her lips brushing his ear. "I'm glad you came."

He could not trust his voice. Caspian pressed a tentative kiss to the edge of her cheek as answer.

"Follow me," murmured Susan, drawing him by the hand and leading him across the antechamber and through the entryway to the bedroom. Caspian followed without protest – there was no time to stop and think –

He stopped abruptly. Breathing suddenly was no longer possible. For there upon the bed lay _Peter_ , golden skin set off by the white sheets, the lean planes of his body laid entirely bare. He was impossibly beautiful. Caspian did not know where to look first – at Peter's parted lips, broad shoulders, lanky legs sprawled lazily open. Hard muscle rippled across his chest and arms stretched overhead, and lower, his sculpted torso and slim hips and…

Caspian swallowed hard. Peter's thick shaft lay across his stomach, fully erect and shining a little as though wet. Caspian could not look away. His own cock throbbed at the sight of a very naked, very hard Peter spread across Susan's bed.

As Caspian's gaze raked over the object of his arousal, he noticed the cloths that were wrapped around Peter's wrists, strong arms raised over his head and – lashed to the bedposts. Gods help him. Caspian licked his lips, aching to touch the bound King.

Who was staring intensely at him. Peter clearly was not expecting him. Blazing blue eyes devoured his, demanding an answer. Peter's unruly blonde hair glowed like a halo in the torchlight, demanding to be pulled and made even more untidy. An image of Peter's smooth brow and lengths of hair across his forehead, covered in Caspian's come, flashed into his mind.

Desperately aroused and fighting for control, Caspian made an effort to explain. "I – that is, Susan – she sent – "

Peter's eyes were smoldering, consuming him, dark and furious. Caspian burned with humiliation. "I'm sorry, I'll just go…"

Susan caught him by the shoulders as he tried to turn and flee. "I did send for you," she declared. "I've watched you long after us silently since we first met. Yet you and Peter are both too stubborn to be the first to admit it. So I had to do _something._ We've wanted you to share our bed for weeks."

Completely caught off guard by her frank admissions, Caspian glanced at Susan and saw the determination and desire that were clearly written across her face. He found it utterly bewildering – to find them together, to see Peter thus, to know he felt as Caspian did, and to discover that Susan wanted the same thing and had in fact planned all this out.

"You could have warned me," said Peter drily, speaking at last. Almost afraid to see if Susan was right, Caspian looked at him with trepidation. Peter's gaze was piercing, yes, but it was also full of – dare he say it – _hunger_. 

"I seem to recall my mouth being too full to talk," retorted Susan.

Caspian choked. He looked involuntarily at Peter's bare form, drawn by the image of Susan with her luscious red lips wrapped around Peter's shaft. He wanted – he wanted to – oh, he wanted _anything_ as long as it involved one and hopefully both of them!

Susan was looking at him very intently. He brought one hand to touch her cheek. "You are amazing," Caspian said fervently. "May I…"

Susan pulled him close and her mouth collided with his. He kissed her eagerly, tasting the sweet curves of her lips, the soft warmth of her parted mouth, the gentle caress of her tongue. He had dreamed of her kisses – and his dreams were nothing to the reality. Reality was far better.

Peter's voice broke through the spell of Susan's kiss. "Nevermind the High King rendered helpless here." The sultry rasp of his tone made Caspian turn and gaze longingly at the exquisite King, who was looking rather sardonically at them from the confines of the bed.

"I am sorry," said Caspian, but he found himself grinning a little at Peter's taunt and the invitation therein. "Might I do anything to help?"

"Untie me and I can handle the rest," said Peter, eyes flickering over Caspian in Susan's arms. Caspian felt a little shiver of anticipation pass over him at the sight of the High King's gleaming muscles, imagining just how he would _handle_ him.

"Of course." Caspian practically bounded toward the bed, but Susan was faster. She caught his hands and shook her head, a wicked smile on her face.

"No."

"Susan," growled Peter. "This isn't funny…"

"I would care to disagree. But I'm not entirely cruel." Susan drew Caspian to the side of the bed and gave him an arch look. "You should kiss him too. To be fair."

Bless her. Caspian could think of nothing he'd like better than to claim Peter's full lips – a family trait – and then taste every glorious bit of the rest of him. Almost shaking with desire and anticipation, he leaned over the magnificent King before him. Caspian breathed the tiniest of caresses against the corner of Peter's mouth. "Is this – "

"Shut up and kiss me already," said Peter. Caspian's lips crashed into his. Instantly Caspian was on fire, his body running hot and feverish at the consuming possession of Peter's mouth upon his own. Peter was rising as far as he could off the bed to kiss him hard, eagerly, ravaging his lips and wresting groans from him at the heat of his coaxing tongue.

Desperate for more contact, Caspian lowered himself to sit beside Peter, still devouring his mouth, and felt his hip just brush Peter's leg. He buried his hands in Peter's thick hair, fingers clenching as Peter sucked his lower lip and teasingly ran his tongue over it. His imagination was supplying all the things Peter could do along those lines, and the sensations were leaving him hard and aching.

Then Caspian felt Susan's nimble fingers working the laces of his doublet and shirt, and he broke free of Peter's insistent kisses to let her draw the finely embroidered garments over his head, leaving his torso as bare as Peter's. Caspian turned to look at her as she did so. Susan was flushed and breathing heavily, lips parted and dark eyes intent on the two Kings. Caspian realized with a start that she was _enjoying_ watching them. He couldn't hold back a slight smirk, despite the painful demands for _touch touch some kind of TOUCH_ that his body was supplying.

"Now who isn't being fair?" he said to her. "You are certainly at an advantage being so fully dressed still." Tentatively Caspian traced her bare neck with his hand until it reached her collarbone and drifted to the swell of her dress. He could feel her breasts under his palms, rising and falling with fast quick breaths as he unlaced the crisscrossing ties there. At last he could slip his fingers under the fabric and push down the sleeves to expose her creamy shoulders, arms, the tops of her breasts, the corset underneath that pushed them up in heaving mounds of cleavage.

Caspian was transfixed and rendered utterly helpless by the erotic vision. He wanted that corset off, _now_. Susan seemed to take pity on him – or perhaps was eager to speed the process along as well – and reached behind her to loosen the laces of the offending garment, then one by one unfastened the hooks of the busk. The corset fell open. Caspian could not help staring in awe.

Peter was watching too. Caspian heard the bound King give a low appreciative murmur as Susan's beautiful breasts were revealed. "By the Mane, I want to _touch_ you two," he growled, echoing Caspian's own thoughts.

"How about if we touch you?" said Susan in a silky voice, gliding to the other side of Caspian with her dress around her waist. She put one knee on the edge of the bed and leaned forward to run one languid hand up Peter's leg and over his hip. Then she looked over at Caspian through lowered lashes. "He truly is quite helpless, you know. You can do just about anything you like to him."

"This is all _highly disrespectful_ ," muttered Peter

"Like this," and Susan trailed the hand that was on his hip across the sculpted planes of his abdomen and down the crease of his pelvis and ghosting over his inner thigh and up to his groin. Caspian watched with pure lust as Peter's cock jumped at the brief touch, and instinctively he reached a hand out to join her. Caspian caressed Peter's narrow waist and defined hipbone, admiring the firm strips of muscle there before letting his hand wander further down.

Peter groaned. "Just wait…" He let out a hiss as Caspian brushed his erection. Emboldened and growing more aroused by the minute, Caspian took the thick shaft in his hand and rubbed his thumb over the tip. Peter inhaled sharply and raised his hips to meet Caspian's hand. Susan took advantage of the movement to slide her fingers up Peter's thigh and cradle them around his sac. "I swear, if one of you doesn't get on me _right now…_ " gasped Peter.

"You heard the King," said Susan, grinning at Caspian. He found the sight of her full breasts far too tempting to ignore any longer, and as he stroked Peter with one hand, he turned and kissed Susan lingeringly, letting his other hand explore the soft curves of her body. And oh, touching her was far better than he had ever dreamt! And even his most licentious fantasies had not been able to conjure the pleasure of rubbing the Magnificent King's cock while running his thumb over the Gentle Queen's rosy nipple.

"Caspian," she said when he let go of her mouth, finally. "Trousers, off. Then we _really_ must do something about Peter." Her free hand began working the laces of his dress trousers.

"Finally, a good plan," commented Peter with ill grace.

Susan had to use both her hands to push the waistband down, and Peter made a huffing noise of protest at the loss of her touch. He seemed to consider it worthwhile, however, when Caspian lifted up his hips and allowed Susan to draw the trousers and accompanying undergarments down his legs. Caspian felt a moment's embarrassment at his raging erection exposed for both of them to see, but their hungry eyes quickly made his own desire flair even hotter and overwhelm any traces of shame.

"I told you we need swords for Narnia," said Peter with a feral grin. "But it should be tested out, for effectiveness you understand. Get over here."

"Not with his boots still on," said Susan. Her hands were guiding Caspian's hips – _gods he wanted her to touch him –_ to sit again facing Peter with his feet on the ground, and she was moving back to stand near Peter's head again.

Then suddenly Susan dropped to her knees before Caspian. He felt his entire body stiffen with lust at the sight of the Queen on her knees, her mouth inches away from his cock. And wonderfully, unbelievably she was licking him and then _sucking him into her mouth oh gods oh gods her lips tongue wet mouth so good don't stop keep doing that all the way in GODS YES._ Caspian closed his eyes and let his head fall back in incoherent bliss.

Susan was _very very_ good at this, was his next rational thought, followed by, she must have lots of practice worshiping her brother's cock like this, and then, that he himself would not mind such practice on the High King. Somehow in between sliding her luscious mouth up and down his shaft and running her tongue over the head, she managed to unlace Caspian's boots and ease them off without once breaking her delightful rhythm. Oh yes, Susan was _extremely_ talented, he decided, reaching to fondle one of her perfect breasts as she removed his socks without removing her mouth from his cock. Gods.

Beside him, Peter was growling again. Ignoring the High King could be dangerous. Caspian opened his eyes and flung an arm across Peter's spread legs. He bent his torso towards the bound King's jutting erection. "Is there any way I can help with this?" Caspian asked, smiling slightly. Susan was not relenting and he had to fight for control to keep from spurting into her mouth then and there. He eagerly welcomed the distraction of Peter's proud hardness, so thick and delectable. "I would untie you if I could, but she's quite determined – "

"Bloody hell, stop talking," Peter ground out. Caspian did not have to be told any further. He breathed a kiss on the weeping tip then, unable to restrain himself longer, slid his mouth down the length of Peter's cock. He mimicked what Susan was doing, sucking and skimming over the firm shaft and swirling his tongue in what he hoped was a pleasing fashion. Peter's ragged exhale told him it met with the High King's approval.

Encouraged, Caspian lavished his full efforts on coaxing more of those sounds from Peter's lips, and drew on all his powers of pleasure to bring the King to the brink. On certain occasions in the past he had practiced such skills with several of the noblemen's sons, none of whom had rivaled Susan's talents in their reciprocation. (It also made it rather awkward now that he was King and had to tactfully avoid their efforts to secure the King's favor with their own favors.)

Never so gladly, though, had Caspian bestowed his attentions as he did now to Peter. He savored the reactions that spoke of Peter's satisfaction with him: the uneven breaths and occasional grunts, the increased straining at the bonds, and the only motion Peter _could_ make, ragged jerks of his hips to quicken Caspian's tempo. The heated responses he was evoking urged Caspian on, worshiping Peter's cock in earnest now, fully devoting his mouth and tongue to the heated length, all the while feeling his own arousal spiraling upward as Susan mirrored his own actions on himself.

Far too soon, Susan let him go and stood up, and Caspian could have groaned at the removal of her mouth, had his own not been full. Peter _did_ groan when she drew Caspian up and off of him. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" he said, scowling at her. "Think you've got the upper hand."

"Oh Peter, I know I do," Susan replied. She slid soft fingers up Caspian's jaw and slowly kissed him with full pouting lips that were just as skillful at kissing as they had been at other things a moment ago. Much as he missed that particular sensation, kissing Susan was still wonderfully intoxicating. Caspian lingered over the enticements of her lips, lost in the headiness of her kiss…

"Much as I enjoy watching you two tongue each other," said Peter drily, "I will remind you again that I am incapacitated."

Susan turned from the kiss to give Peter a fixed glower. "Patience was never your strong point. I think you will find plenty to enjoy this evening. Starting now." She pulled Caspian down to the bed with her, and Caspian found himself suddenly hip to hip with the Magnificent King.

Susan climbed over them to nestle against Peter's other hip. She smiled at them, a secretive bedroom smile. "I want to _watch,"_ she said in a low husky voice. Caspian felt his pulse race. His head was spinning, but Susan was reaching over and drawing him flush against Peter and _gods there was no space between them_ and he could feel every inch of Peter's hard body from his extended shoulders and chest straight down to their joined groins and legs.

Instantly Caspian was overwhelmed with hot shaking need. _"Peter,"_ he gasped, pressing against the firm erection that made his own throb as it touched the beautiful King for the first time. Peter gave a strangled moan and canted his hips up to meet Caspian's. Still slick with moisture, his cock slid with agonizing friction against Caspian's hardness. Desire flared between them as they pushed against each other with growing urgency, pressure building with every stroke and pulse of flesh.

Caspian felt his world narrow to the feeling of Peter thrusting against him, Susan caressing his back and capturing his lips in a fiery kiss. His senses were ablaze, overcome by the endless torrent of their touches, seizing his entire body with flaming heat at the pleasure of Peter's hard driving rhythm, Susan's sinuous undulations next to them.

Somewhere in the midst of the delirious haze, Susan was shoving her skirts up and kicking off lacy white fabric, and Caspian thought he was dreaming the most erotic dream of his life, watching Susan, half-nude, trace the curves of her legs and slip long pale fingers between her thighs and part the soft curls there.

Peter turned his head to watch as well and pulled helplessly at the cords that restrained his arms. "Let me go and I can _help_ ," he said breathlessly, writhing under Caspian.

"No," said Susan, her eyes dark and dilated. "I want to watch you two. And I can handle myself quite well." The sure movements of her hand underscored her words, and Caspian pressed _hard_ into Peter as they both followed the path of Susan's fingers circling her sex and caressing the pink glimpse of flesh there.

Peter growled and redoubled his thrusts, lifting up to seize Caspian in a ferocious kiss. Heat enveloped Caspian everywhere, from the warmth of Peter's demanding mouth on his own to the feverish touch of his skin underneath Caspian's entire body. He shuddered at the sheer bliss of Peter's hard strength driving up at him as they rode each other. Caspian clutched at Peter's hips, trying to brace against him and feel _more, more_ of him, he couldn't get enough, he wanted _all_ of him.

And heat became _wetness,_ with Peter's consuming tongue parting his lips and devouring his mouth, and the frantic slide of their bodies against each other turning slick with perspiration. Hard slippery muscle surrounded him; the constant insistent rub of Peter's stiff cock against his own flooded his body with fierce pleasure. Caspian could not take much more of this – it was too much – he was on fire – so good – _Peter_ was under him, groaning into his mouth and thrusting against his cock, harder, just as he wanted it, he could _feel_ how close Peter was, just like he was…

Peter inhaled sharply and turned his head to Susan, who had her gaze fixed on them as she touched herself. Her lips were parted and her breasts were rising and falling rapidly with quick breaths. "You are beautiful together," she whispered, never breaking her rhythm.

"Let me go, Susan," begged Peter. "I…I need to…"

"Ah," said Susan, a slight smile spreading across her lips. "Yes, I would like to see that. All right. You win, Peter." She reached above the headboard of the bed for something – a knife? And then it became clear that Susan was in no mood to wait to untie knots. She slashed the thick length of fabric that stretched to the edge and middle of the bed, freeing Peter's bonds one by one.

The moment that both wrists were free, Peter roared into action. He seized Caspian's waist and, springing up, forcefully flipped him over and pinned him to the bed with his hips. A rush of heady desire shot through Caspian's body at Peter's forceful possession of him. His erection begged for release when Peter pushed against him roughly.

"Now, _King Caspian_ , I am not so powerless." With those words, he drove furiously against Caspian's aching cock, his freed hands gripping Caspian's shoulders and upper arms. The frantic intensity of his thrusts matched the power and vigor of the Magnificent King upon the field of battle, and Caspian burned under him, desperately falling to the consuming strength of Peter's body. Peter was so hard against him, their cocks pressed tightly together, the slick friction driving them both to the edge of desire.

It was all too much. Caspian felt the tight coil of ache for release wind irresistibly in his groin. The sudden sharp flicker of inescapable ecstasy at Peter's grinding hardness took hold of Caspian, and he clutched at Peter and thrust up into his hips with heedless urgency and threw his head back. Bright magnificent _pleasure_ exploded through his groin as he shuddered beneath Peter and came all over him. Caspian felt the bliss of his release flood his body with each wave of seed that shot from his cock and onto Peter. He rubbed against the High King's come-coated cock, little aftershocks of delight sparking on his skin.

Peter wound one hand in his hair and grasped it firmly, then ground against Caspian's still-hard erection with fast powerful thrusts. Breathing heavily, Caspian took in the glorious sight of the High King in the throes of passion, head flung back and golden hair clinging to his forehead. He heard a soft murmur of appreciation from Susan next to him; he could not blame her, for Peter seemed to command the entire bed with the intensity of his passion. Caspian ran his hands down Peter's back and pulled him ever closer; then with an effort, he tore his gaze away from the King rutting against him and turned his head to look at Susan.

She looked utterly ravishable, breasts exposed and skirts around her waist, one hand sensuously pressed to the crease of hip and thigh while the other one was fingering her sex. Her eyes were lidded, lips trembling as she pleasured herself. Caspian could see that her gaze was fixed on him and Peter, raking their joined bodies with heated glances. She had been entirely honest – she was enjoying watching them.

Above him, Peter was on his hands now, grinding his hips against Caspian's groin and looking between them at Susan's hypnotic movements. Caspian heard her breath come quicker and saw the fingers between her legs moving swiftly, her own hips rising to meet her hand. They were both so close, their rhythms matching in pace and spiraling intensity.

Suddenly Peter grabbed him and thrust him aside, toward Susan. "Finish her," he panted, moving in front of them to kneel on his knees, right before them. On his side facing Susan directly now, Caspian gladly took the beautiful Queen in his arms and joined his hand with hers in caressing her parted thighs and warm center. She was soaking wet, so desirable and ripe for the taking, and Caspian felt himself hardening again at the thought of plundering Susan right then and there. She was running her hands down his torso, skimming his chest and stomach until she reached his growing erection.

"Can you – that is – do you want to?" asked Susan between breaths and strokes.

" _Gods_ yes," said Caspian. "But – you – I shouldn't – I mean – "

"I can't get pregnant tonight, if that's what you're worried about," said Susan. "And I want this. I want _you._ "

"And Peter…"

"Peter wants to _finish,"_ the afore-mentioned King grunted behind Caspian. "I don't care who you take – me, her, yourself – just as long as you _get going."_

Caspian didn't know what he found more erotic, the thought of taking Susan or Peter, but Susan was already commandeering his hands toward her hips and pushing her dress down and off her legs, and his cock was impossibly hard again at the images of filling both the King and Queen and riding them to completion. Her hands kept stroking him and then she was rubbing the tip of his shaft against her slick thighs where they met and opened. Caspian stiffened, trying not to thrust furiously into her.

Susan shook her head. "Let go, Caspian. Possess me."

With a strangled cry, Caspian entered her. Instantly he was racked with unimaginable bliss as his cock was enveloped in her tight wet warmth. She drew him close and flung a leg over him, and Caspian helplessly began moving within her, trying to find the best angle to please her while yielding to his own instinctive need. But soon the delight of finally feeling Susan all around him, her body cradling his and drawing him in, was too much to restrain. Caspian let go and thrust eagerly into her, urged on by her hands on his buttocks pulling him deeper and faster in a frantic rhythm.

“Join us,” Susan breathed, turning her head toward Peter. Caspian heard an answering murmur of assent and then sword-calloused hands joined Susan’s smooth fingers on his backside. Caspian inhaled sharply as he felt Peter’s lean hard body flush against his. He was surrounded by hard and soft; Peter’s strong chest pressed to his back and Susan’s full breasts rubbing his own chest; Peter’s sinewy angles and Susan’s yielding curves; Peter’s firm stiff erection nestled against his bum, and Susan’s warm center around his own cock.

Overwhelmed with blissful sensation, Caspian shook and closed his eyes as they moved around him. They possessed him completely, their bodies acting as one to coax his to ecstasy. He could think of nothing but the aching perfection of the way they fitted with him, the devouring passion that united them all together. With each eager stroke and undulation they drove him further and further toward the brink, sending sparks flying up his spine from the intense pressure of his throbbing cock.

Caspian thrust more and more urgently into Susan, feeling Peter do the same against the cleft of his buttocks. The sense of being _taken_ by Peter was terribly erotic, and Caspian was not sure how much longer he could last as he filled Susan again and again. She was so tight, so wet, even more than her mouth had been, and she was moaning and writhing beside him, urging him on.

Caspian felt Peter’s arms encircle him and his hands slip between their sliding bodies to caress Susan’s breasts. She gasped and leaned into Peter’s fingers fondling her nipples, all the while rocking her hips into Caspian’s. He moved deeply within her, feeling her clench all around him and then shiver and cry out in delight, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. The tightness around his cock brought Caspian right up to the edge as he thrust over and over, trying to extend Susan’s pleasure, but Peter’s rough jerks behind him were sending him over and he couldn’t help it, they felt so _good_ , so indescribably good.

And Caspian was leaning back against Peter’s chest and he was _coming_ , hard waves of pleasure flooding his body as he spilled his seed into Susan and shuddered with ecstasy; and Peter was shoving his hard shaft against him and holding him and riding his buttocks and Caspian thought he would die from the pleasure.

Peter’s lips were next to his ear. “Fuck, Caspian,” he panted. Caspian pushed back into Peter’s erection, desperate to make the High King lose control as he had. Through the haze he felt Peter’s hips stutter against his back and then the thick rush of liquid on his skin, warm and wet like Susan’s core around his cock. Caspian trembled at the outburst of passion that Peter finally released. A few shuddering thrusts and Peter was spent and melting into him.

And over Caspian’s shoulder, Peter and Susan’s lips met and made love to each other as their bodies had to Caspian, and the new King felt himself falling into their embrace and being held close to their fast-beating hearts.

It was several minutes before Caspian was able to think again. He did not want to move a muscle. Susan was curled around him, still cradling his slick shaft between her thighs, and rested her head on his chest, tracing the curve of his hip with her fingers. Behind him, Peter was slumped against his back, boneless and content. Peter's arms were still wrapped around him, but they caressed Susan where she lay next to Caspian's heart, stroking her bare shoulder and back.

Caspian had never been so perfectly happy in all his life.

At some point one of them drew the covers over their tangled limbs and they all drifted off in a happy exhausted slumber. Caspian felt himself floating in a half-dreaming state, almost too blissful to be truly asleep. The feeling of being complete in their arms was a constant soothing presence in his dreams. He could easily lay there forever and be completely satisfied.

Fluttering kisses along his collarbone made him open his eyes rather lazily. Susan's dark hair flowed across his chest, and her head was nestled under his chin while she traced his skin with tender lips. Caspian sighed happily and stroked her hair. He felt Peter shift behind him and then a warm mouth on the back of his neck where it met his shoulder. Under the covers, they caressed limbs and muscles and curves gently, the urgency of before replaced with the languid joy of touching each other.

Caspian was not sure if minutes or hours passed thus; time was a needless complication just then. At last Susan threw off the covers, ignoring the snort of protest from Peter as the cold air hit them. She rose from the bed and stood, not bothering with clothes or sheet. Caspian followed her pale sinuous form illuminated by the flickering lamplight, and smiled at how beautiful and unconscious she was, like a goddess, tall and proud.

She disappeared into the adjoining bath, returning soon with a cloth in her hand. Peter surveyed her with amusement. "Good thinking, Su."

"Someone has to," replied Susan with a grin. She crawled back into bed with them, then bent over the two Kings and tenderly cleaned them with the warm wet cloth. "This would be very uncomfortable in a few minutes. _Boys."_ She shook her head, making her hair shake over Caspian's legs and tickling them with the ends.

"This is all your doing," said Peter unconcernedly, stretching out against the pillow. "It's not our fault you made us make such a mess."

"Made you? _Made you?"_ Susan gave a huffy laugh.

Caspian resisted the urge to close his eyes as she ran the cloth over his buttocks, and instead turned to look directly at Peter. The golden King was sprawled luxuriously next to him, lean body taking up a good portion of the bed now that he was on his back. Caspian found that he did not mind this at all.

"You should be thank your lucky stars I _made_ you," said Susan as she leaned over Caspian's legs to tend to Peter. "Otherwise you'd both still be wanking alone in your beds to the thought of each other."

Caspian blushed hotly. "How – "

"Sounds carried very well in Aslan's Howe," said Susan matter-of-factly. "I could _hear_ you."

"Oh gods." Caspian thought he would die from the mortification, but Peter just grinned.

"Buck up, Caspian. At least it put the idea in her head. Wasn't this better than another lonely wank?"

Unable to say anything else, Caspian bit his lip and nodded. _Better_ did not properly describe it.

"We should do this again sometime," said Susan breezily, but her wicked smile as she rose to her knees and wiped her own thighs clean betrayed the intent behind her words.

Caspian's heart leapt. Again? By all means. Anytime they wanted. Preferably every morning and night, and perhaps stolen assignations during the day too…

Emboldened by Susan's implications, Caspian ventured to ask what had been at the back of his mind for a while that evening. "If I may…how _did_ Peter come to be tied up?"

Susan met his questioning gaze straight on. Her expressive eyes were sparkling with sardonic humor.

She lifted a bare shoulder in a coy shrug. "He asked for it."

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for the concluding epilogue, hehe!


End file.
